Love Not Forgotten
by CatJetRat
Summary: Sequel to "Love is Cruel". It's been five years since Hermione and Pansy have last seen each other. Will they be able to reconnect again? Or will their time apart prove too detrimental? HGPP femslash!
1. Forgotten

**A/N:** So I'm kind of just doing this by ear. Not really sure what's going to happen, but that's half the fun, eh? Lol. Disappointing reviews so far, but hopefully this one will attract more attention. I'm going to stop updating if you bums don't give me some feedback, lol. All right, first chapter, sequel! Enjoy! Adios!

-CatJetRat

**5 Years Later**

**Chapter 1**

**Forgotten**

**Pansy's POV**

"Look, I've already told you everything I know!" I said, rather crossly. "What more do you want from me?"

"Ms. Hermione Granger," Eliza Robison, the District Attorney of New York City, said to me, eyes narrow. "If anyone knows where she is, you do."

"Yes, but I don't!" I snapped. "Besides, what does her testimony matter? She heard the same thing I did!"

"But it looks much better to a jury if we have two witnesses who heard the same thing, rather than one witness who was in a place she never should have been and the person who was with her went missing shortly after, and hasn't been seen since!" The last words ended in a shout.

I pursed my lips and leaned back in my chair. "Are we quite done here? I have a plane to catch."

"You can't go to England in the middle of the trial!" Ms. Robison's eyes bulged. "We're about to put behind bars the worst religious fanatics in the state!"

"And I already gave my testimony," I snarled. "My plane leaves in three hours, and I start grad school in a week. I don't have time for this."

With that, I grabbed my backpack and strode out of the office. My girlfriend Hannah Abbott stood up, looking worried. "I'm guessing it didn't go well?" she remarked tentatively.

"Idiot D.A. needs to be fired; she can't do her fucking job right without interrogating the person who helped her," I muttered darkly under my breath. "Is it my fault that Granger disappeared for five years? Am I the reason she doesn't care that her fake parents are behind bars? Absurd, absolutely absurd."

"She might not know," Hannah suggested. "We have no idea where she is. She could be dead for all we know."

My heart skipped a beat at the word 'dead', but I struggled to ignore it. Hermione had abandoned me years ago. She deserved neither my pity nor my worry. I exited the building and we went down to cab that was waiting for us. My hybrid had already been shipped to London. We got in the taxi and it set off at a slow pace for the airport. Hannah and I were both headed to England, Hannah so she could return to her homeland after two years in the states, me so I could go to Oxford for graduate school.

"It'll be okay," she said tenderly, reaching out to stroke my hair. I leaned into her touch, so warm and soothing. I focused my gaze upon her, taking in her long blonde hair, paler than my own, and her piercingly intelligent hazel eyes. I leaned in and kissed her, relishing the taste of the cinnamon gum she so loved to chew. She returned my kiss with passion, matching my style easily. We had been dating for the better part of a year, and knew each other outside and in (no pun intended). She was the first girl I dated who I felt a true connection with. I didn't count Hermione, since technically; she and I had never dated. Hannah pulled away and stroked my face, a small smile playing around her lips which I returned.

"What's your first class?" she asked me.

"Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster, told me that I could come and get my schedule from him," I murmured. "He said he wanted to discuss some things with me…." Her fingers had been running across my cheek and were now tracing their way around my lips.

"Nothing bad, I hope?" she said softly, smiling when I took her forefinger into my mouth and began to seductively lick it. I shook my head, her finger between my teeth. She grinned, then leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Our driver's getting quite a show, isn't he?" Her lips barely brushed my ear and I shuddered at the feel of her warm breath rushing across it. With difficulty I glanced at the cab driver, who was looking while trying to appear to not look. I smirked.

Turning my head around, I caught her in an open-mouthed kiss. She moaned lightly into my mouth, and out of the corner of my eye I could see the driver's pants tightening. Now, I wasn't much of an exhibitionist as far as I knew, but this was too much fun. I began to trace little circles on her leg, starting at the knee. When my hand began to push her skirt up, she grabbed it.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. An evil little smile crossed my face.

"Just having a bit of fun," I whispered, and bit her earlobe, then ran my tongue down her neck. Her hold on my hand weakened, and I began again the steady ascent along her leg. When I reached the top of her inner thighs, I began to rub each thigh gently, and I could feel heat radiating from her. Just as I was about to penetrate her and give her sweet release, we arrived.

"Oh look, we're here!" I said cheerfully, and hopped out of the cab. I shut the door, barely catching sight of her pissed off face. I had a funny feeling that we would soon join the mile-high club.

**Hermione's POV**

"_Mi __hija_, are you sure about this?" my mother, Flor Ramirez, fretted as I rushed about collecting my things.

"Of course I'm sure," I replied, reaching under my bed to grab some socks. "Besides, Gloria's already got a new roommate, and she's thrilled to have the extra furniture."

"You could stay with me until you got a new place," my mother mused, disregarding my previous statement. "And nowhere does it say you have to let her keep all of your furniture."

"_Madre_, I'm leaving," I said, turning to face her. "But I'll be back to visit, don't you worry." I smiled and gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek. It did nothing to decrease her frown.

"But it's across the _Atlántico_!" she exclaimed. "And you've never even been there before! It's a foreign country!"

"Oh yes, England is so foreign," I scoffed. "Besides, I already took a year off after college, and I decided that I still want this. I have a full scholarship, and even if I didn't, I've saved plenty of money. I'll be fine."

My mother grumbled disapprovingly underneath her breath. I smiled. There was a time when I wouldn't have dreamed of leaving my mother's side. But five years and a lot of hardship had given me the strength I had needed. Three years ago I went from being a self-destructive cutter to a suicidal, depressed young woman. After an attempt to drown myself in Lady Bird Lake, my mother had gotten me some help, and I was healing, if not completely healed. After all, I don't think anyone can ever be entirely stable.

I stayed with my mother through the summer after being separated from her, and we spent a lot of time together. With my help, she got her green card, and we moved to Austin, Texas, where I attended the University of Texas and acquired a job in a Mexican restaurant as a waitress. Being fluent in Spanish was helpful, especially here. Most people in Austin could speak at least some Spanish. After I graduated from UT with a BA in philosophy (I had decided physics wasn't my true calling after all), I took a year off to study Chinese and train in martial arts, specifically Aikido and Karate. Now I had a full scholarship to go to graduate school at Oxford, and I was quite ready to leave Texas and America behind me. I would miss my mother, yes, but other than her, there was really nothing for me here. I broke up with my last girlfriend a few months ago, and my friends meant a lot to me, but I needed a change of scenery.

I shuffled Flor on out the door after a few moments so that I could continue packing. I had already shipped most of my things to the place I was staying. I would be sharing a house with a girl native to England who desperately needed a room mate. It was convenient, close to campus, and, while not cheap, not terribly expensive, either.

I grabbed my suitcase and backpack and trotted down the stairs to where my mother was waiting next to her car, looking annoyed. I sighed but smiled. I could look forward to a long drive to the airport full of worried admonitions and then a tearful good bye. Honestly, though, I would take this mother over my fake one any day.

**Pansy's POV**

"We're about to land," Hannah nudged me.

"Mhm," I mumbled, completely ignoring her. I was having a lovely dream about crumpets, and it didn't need to be interrupted by—

BUMP!

My head jerked up and I looked around in annoyance. The plane had landed. Damn. I shifted around in my sleep again. Maybe I could grab a few more moments—

"Come on," Hannah laughed. "Wake up. You can sleep when we get you to the apartment."

I grumbled and turned on my phone, checking the time. 12:40 A.M. Or 0:40, as they might say here. I honestly had no clue how they structured their time. Hannah would be staying in her parent's house, and I had gotten an apartment. For a time, we contemplated living together, but decided that at this point in our relationship, it was a bad idea. Maybe in a couple of years, after I'd graduated. Hannah had no interest in graduate school; she had actually come back here to become a teacher. She had been to teaching school in England and came here to study our methods. She would be teaching at a school that would have several American exchange students, and wanted to make sure she understood some of the American culture.

I gathered up my bags and proceeded after her. I was here to study literature. I'd heard Oxford was the best place for it. I wasn't entirely sure what it was I wanted to do with my life yet, but I was still searching. I had been tempted at one point to say "Fuck all" and become a musician and lyricist, but decided at the last moment that that was a bad idea. Too many uncertainties. So I was here. Here to study literature and find my passion. Because music was just a silly passion, or so some of my teachers and my sister had told me. Not that I ever wanted to do anything my sister said, but still. Maybe sometimes she could make sense.

We loaded off the plane and collected our bags, then picked up my hybrid where it was waiting for us in the airport parking lot. My parents had bought it for me as a college graduation present. It ran wonderfully; a blue Toyota Prius. They swore that if they'd had a hundred grand to throw away they would have bought me an electric car, but no go. I actually think it wasn't so much a graduation present as it was a present for testifying against the religious fanatics who had been Hermione's parents.

Hannah guided me down the dark London streets to my one-bedroom apartment. We lugged my suitcases up the stairs and plopped them down in my room. I was impressed. It was much larger than the pictures had led me to believe, and Hannah's parents had done a wonderful job of assembling the furniture I gave them. They had even made my bed!

I gave a small gasp as I felt Hannah's warm hands encircling my waist. "What say we christen your new apartment?" she murmured to me.

I grinned, and turned around without breaking her grip. "Can't think of a better idea," I said, and leaned in to kiss her.

**Hermione's POV**

I stared around the strange London airport uncertainly until I spotted someone with a sign that said 'Granger'. Relieved, I rushed over to the person holding the sign, a rather large—not fat just really tall—dark-haired woman. She was scanning the crowd and squinting. Then she spotted me.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed, and crushed me in a hug, ignoring my outstretched hand. "Such a delight to finally meet you. Terribly sorry I wasn't able to send you a picture of me, you know, my computer; it's just so slow!"

I laughed. "It's perfectly understandable. Shall we, then?"

"Of course, of course," she insisted, and buried my hand in hers, leading me out of the airport. "My husband, Rubeus, is waiting with the car; he can't wait to meet you. I can't tell you how much of a help you are, moving in and everything. We thought we just might have to move out! But I'm glad you're here."

"Not to worry, Mrs. Hagrid," I assured her.

"Please, please, call me Olympe. After all, we're roomies, now!" she laughed.

I laughed as well, a little uncertain of myself. She led me over to a car, large for English standards, being driven by a man who was proportionally equally as large as she was. Again, not necessarily fat. Just large.

"Nice to meet you, little lady," he rumbled at me, stretching out a hand. "Name's Rubeus Hagrid. You must be Hermione Granger. Friend of Harry Potter's, is that right?"

"Why yes," I smiled.

"He's a good lad; I knew his parents back in the day," Rubeus sighed, and pulled out of the parking lot, onto the dark road. "Sad night. Such a tragedy. You know, I was the first man on the scene, back when I worked for the NYPD. Pulled that sick bastard Riddle out and cuffed him right before he could finish off little Harry. Horrible. Did you know that Peter Pettigrew sold them to Riddle for a couple mil? Nearly fled the country by the time we caught him. He's lucky we did too. I reckon Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, you know, would have finished him off if we hadn't. As it was, he got fifteen years as an accomplice. Too few, in my opinion. Smart man, though, he fled the country shortly after his release and hasn't been heard from since. But Harry and I still keep in touch," Rubeus added brightly. "Send him a couple dozen rock cakes every Christmas a birthday."

"That's…lovely," I said, a bit take aback, but Rubeus seemed pleased at the response.

"By the way, call me Hagrid, everyone does. Don't much care for my first name," he grunted, and just then, they pulled into the driveway of a quaint British cottage.

"It isn't much," Olympe apologized, pushing the door open. I had to disagree. Yes, the living room was a bit cluttered, but it was much larger inside than it looked from the outside. The kitchen was quite large, and had every cookbook imaginable, which was lovely, since I loved to cook and bake, and best of all, I mused, was my room. It was enormous, and the bed was large and comfortable. It was perfect.

_Even better_, I thought, as a dark calico kitten emerged from underneath the bed and jumped lightly into my lap.

"That's Kitty Num-Nums," Olympe said.

"Excuse me?" I said with raised eyebrows.

"Don't ask me; that's just what Hagrid calls her," Olympe laughed. "I'll tell you what: you name her whatever you like, just don't tell Hagrid. Goodnight, darling," she said, and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

I grinned and picked the kitten up. "What shall I call you?" I asked, studying the kitten. With a jolt, I realized that I was reminded of Pansy's old calico cat, Athena. "You look like an Athena," I whispered. "Do you like that name?" The kitten purred, leaning into my hand. I smiled. Athena it was then.

I set the kitten down and went about getting prepared for bed. As I snuggled into the covers, and Athena settled down next to me to sleep, another smile played across my face. Tomorrow, my new life would begin. And my old life would stay in America, where it belonged. Forgotten.

**A/N**: Hmm, let's see now, how many hits have I gotten so far for the last chapter of "Love is Cruel"? Oh, look at that! 131! Quite impressive. Now, let's look at the reviews, hmm…wait…2? I've gotten two reviews? Two reviews, when over one hundred and thirty people read the last chapter? What is this nonsense? Now, now, I _know_ that 129 of you are just about to review any moment now. As it is, I won't update this until I get ten reviews. Hear that? 10 REVIEWS, people!! If not, no more "Love Not Forgotten'. That's a promise. Review. Meshi. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	2. Memories

**A/N:** You can all thank the guy who broke my heart for this chapter. Usually, all my best writing comes out of me when I'm fucking miserable, so here goes. Adios!

-CatJetRat

**Chapter 2**

**Memories**

**Pansy's POV**

The warm comfort of my bed was just too appealing, I decided, cracking one eyelid open. Still dark out. Good. I had plenty of time to—

I shot straight up in bed, having just caught sight of my clock. 9:45. Fifteen minutes before my meeting with Dumbledore. What the….

I got out of bed and threw my curtains back. Clouds covered the sky and I cursed. I had forgotten that it was always cloudy in England. No time to shower. I yanked on my clothes as I ran out the door.

"Shit, shit, _shit_!!" I cursed, and grabbed my backpack, running out the door.

I arrived at Oxford one minute before my interview was scheduled to start. I frantically looked around. "Where's Professor Dumbledore's office?" I asked a passerby. She looked rather taken aback.

"Third floor," she said. I thanked her and ran up to the third floor, and came to a halt in front of a door that said "Professor Dumbledore" on it.

I knocked. "Enter," came a voice from within. I opened the door and walked in to…I'm not quite sure how one might describe the sight that greeted me. The first thing I noticed was a large red parrot sitting on a perch. With no cage. Then the rest of the room came to me. A stack of what looked like dusty framed awards sat in the corner. The walls were covered with newspaper clippings, though I didn't focus in on one. There were tables filled with little silver trinkets which had no discernable purpose, and finally, a white bearded old man in what appeared to be bright purple pajamas.

"Ah, Ms. Parkinson," he said cheerfully. "Sit, sit." He motioned to a large chintz chair in front of his desk. Struck dumb, I obliged, my eyes flickering over the objects on his desk. There was an old black and white photo of a young blond man, who couldn't have been more than eighteen when the picture was taken. There was a large jar of saltwater taffy as well. Dumbledore saw where my gaze had gone, and he smiled.

"Taffy?" he offered, holding out the jar. I eagerly took a piece, smiling back at him, and wait—were his eyes actually _twinkling_?

"So, Ms. Parkinson. You are here to receive your schedule, correct?"

I nodded. "Yes sir," I said, then added quickly, "And thank you so much for accepting me into your school. It means so much to me."

"Of course, of course," Dumbledore said, smiling, as he pulled a sheet of paper out of his file cabinet. He turned around and handed it to me, and his eyes focused on something around my neck. "That's an unusual necklace," he commented mildly. "Where did you get it?"

My fingers protectively wrapped around my heart-shaped necklace. "It was given to me," I stammered. Shit! I had completely forgotten to take it off. I used to wear it every day, but when Hannah and I had gotten together, and I had told her the story of the necklace, she had been okay with it at first, but as each week passed that we were together, she grew more and more resentful about it, until at last we had a huge blowout over it, and she told me that I could either keep her or keep the necklace. I never wore it in her presence again, though I always kept it on at my house and when I went to sleep.

"What's inside of it?" he asked curiously.

"Wax," I said quickly.

He laughed a little. "Perhaps today is just the day of odd necklaces. I had a young lady come in earlier with a necklace made out of bottle caps, and another one with what looked like a laminated, blood-stained razor." Dumbledore sighed. "I will never understand the fashions of today."

I raised my eyebrows at him, but made no comment.

"Anyway, your classes begin tomorrow. Have fun!" With that, Dumbledore shooed me out the door. I felt a tad startled. I'd thought there would be more to the conversation, but whatever.

Now that I had caught my breath I was able to take in just how hungry I was. And how in need of a shower. I wrinkled my nose as I caught a whiff of my dirty clothes, and pulled my hoodie top over my head, rushing out of the building, colliding with a girl walking past the door. Her books fell out of her hands.

"Sorry," I said, and leaned down to help pick them up.

"It's okay," she said softly, her curly brown hair covering her face. I hesitated for a moment, and for some strange reason felt a strange urge to look into her eyes. But…I was tired, and cranky. Now was not the best time to be trying to make friends. And England was a small country. I'd probably see her again. Dismissing the desire, I handed some of her books to her and turned around, heading for my car, food, and a shower.

**Hermione's POV**

I strolled around the campus at Oxford, looking down at the schedule Professor Dumbledore had given me when we'd had our meeting at 9:00. A strange man, but he seemed nice enough. And I'd already made a friend! A girl named Luna, who, while equally as strange as Dumbledore, was very nice. She had been going in for her meeting right as I left mine. Maybe we could trade notes. I wondered what her major was.

As I walked past the entrance to the main building a girl rushed out of the door and collided with me, knocking my books out of my hands.

"Sorry," she mumbled, and rushed to help me.

"It's okay," I said, slightly annoyed. She shoved some of my books into my hands and ran off before I could get a good look at her face. I frowned and watched her go, my hands tingling slightly where she had touched them. Odd. But she had a hoodie on, so I had no way of figuring out who she was. Whatever.

I looked around at the beautiful campus and breathed in the fresh English air. I know it sounds silly to say that the air tastes different in England than it does in Texas, but it really does. I walked twice around the building before I finally found a spot that suited me, and I settled down in front of a tree and started reading Voltaire.

"Heavy reading," a voice said teasingly. I looked up. A pretty redheaded girl was eyeing the book in my hand, a small smile teasing the corners of her mouth as she clutched her own books in her arms.

I allowed my eyes to travel lazily up and down her frame. She was voluptuous and beautiful, with soft curves all around her body and a face that looked like it couldn't frown. She was wearing a flowery, almost hippie type dress, and her head was cocked to the side. My gaze flickered from her well-defined breasts to the uneven hem of her flowing skirt, which was hiked up almost provocatively close to her nether regions. I allowed a grin to break across my face as I imagined running my hands up her skirt and gripping her tightly.

"Depends upon your perspective," I said idly.

"What's your perspective?" she smirked.

"That in the end, humans only truly exist to do three things. Eat, sleep, and fuck," I said, raising my eyebrows at her.

She raised one in turn. "Oh really?"

"Really," I said with a shrug. "We didn't evolve with the goal of being philosophical in our genes. We evolved so that the best and strongest could survive and reproduce. Our intellectual side? Pure gravy. The truth is that very few, if any humans at all will be able to even begin to comprehend the secrets of the universe, let alone discover them."

Her eyebrow was still raised, but she smiled. "Interesting. I'm Ginny Weasley. An exchange student from NYU."

At this, my heart nearly stopped. This…this was Ginny? I remembered Ginny. I went to high school with her. She had been Ron's obnoxious sister. But the last time I'd seen her, she'd been a pimply faced fourteen year old who clung to Pansy Parkinson like a leech. A very, very, annoying leech. I had barely had any interaction with her. She would taunt me to follow Pansy's lead, but that was it. She was ugly and annoying and therefore not worth my attention. Yet the girl standing in front of me was…stunning. There was no other word for it. She seemed sweet and sincere, and obviously had no recollection of me whatsoever. I probably wouldn't either, except she had hung around Pansy a lot and was therefore in my periphery vision ninety percent of the time. So I remembered her. Barely.

"I'm Hermione…Lopez," I said hesitantly, deciding to use my mother's last name. Not so much because I was worried it would be awkward if she knew who I was, but because I was afraid she would tell her brother, and while I didn't mind Harry knowing where I was, because he wouldn't tell anyone, if Ron knew where I was, he was sure to blab his big mouth and it might get back to Pansy, and that just could _not_ happen. I had put her through so much grief. It was best that she forget about me and live her life. The last thing I wanted was to hurt her again.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Hermione Lopez," Ginny said, taking it upon herself to settle in the grass beside me. "You don't sound English, either. Where are you from?"

"Austin, Texas," I said. It wasn't really a lie. After all, that _was_ where I had just come from.

Ginny smiled. "I've always wanted to go to Texas. Open fields, horseback riding, churches to taunt on every corner…."

I snickered. "As appealing as that does sound, it wasn't really like that in Austin. Austin's the liberal oasis of Texas. It's awesome there."

"Huh," Ginny said. "Well, it certainly sounds nice."

I smiled slightly. "Yes. It's a wonderful city."

She cocked her head to the side. "I've heard it's like the San Francisco of Texas." Her brown eyes focused in on mine, and there was a question in her gaze.

My smile didn't falter, though my heart rate sped up. She was cute, sure, and I would probably be very interested, normally. But…it was Ginny. Pansy's friend Ginny. Something about it just felt…wrong. Dirty.

I opened my mouth and shut it. Why should it feel dirty? I hadn't seen Pansy in years, and probably would never see her again. Ginny seemed grown up, and was pretty besides. Nothing should feel weird about this. Nothing at all.

"I found it to be so," I said, meeting her gaze. She grinned.

"Cool."

**A/N:** So I was guilt tripped into posting this, because a certain reviewer who shall remain nameless posted and posted and posted, filling up my inbox and making me feel guilty as hell. So here you go. It's short, but I'll keep writing, and I swear I'll finish this story if it kills me. Adios!

-CatJetRat


	3. Tea

**A/N:** Okay. Yes. It has been two years. Yes, this chapter is short. Yes, I promised to finish this story if it kills me. Yes, I plan on keeping that promise. I find it deeply amusing how much you all love this story, considering how much I do not love it. However, I will bear through it, while trying to recover from my writer's block on "Another Shot at Life". Adios!

-CatJetRat

**Chapter 3**

**Tea**

**Pansy's POV**

"If another _fucking _person calls dinner 'tea', I'm going to shoot someone," I growled.

"Peace, love," Hannah said, not looking up from her textbook. "It's an English colloquialism. Not the end of the world."

I threw my pencil down on my notebook in disgust. Over two months in England, and there hadn't been a speck of sunlight so far. I was also finding myself feeling increasingly lost among the British customs and culture. I'd already gotten mercilessly teased three times by my new classmates without being made aware of it until after the fact. I doubted that I would ever cease to be amazed at how English people could be complete jerks while sounding polite as could be.

Hannah must have sensed my distress, because she finally tore her eyes from her textbook long enough to give me an annoyed look.

"What's wrong now?" she asked, sounding mildly exasperated.

"Nothing," I muttered crankily. "I'm going for a walk."

"Fine." She pursed her lips and returned to her book. I gritted my teeth in frustration and grabbed my coat.

I loved Hannah, I really, truly did. But sometimes….

I reached into my pocket and stroked Hermione's necklace. I stopped myself almost as soon as I could, and shook my head in disgust at my sentimental musings. For perhaps the thousandth time, I reminded myself that there was no use romanticizing someone who had walked out of my life years ago, without a second glance.

_Or even bothering to call_…

I glared inwardly at my mutinous thoughts, and shoved them away. Hermione leaving had been…hard. Harder than I had ever thought it would be. True, I'd known her my whole life, but not outside of trying to make her life hell. She'd only really been a part of my life for two days. Logically, there was no reason, absolutely no reason at all for me to feel like my whole heart had been torn from me. And yet.

Hannah was the first relationship I'd had since Hermione. When Hermione had left, I had withdrawn into myself completely. No one could touch me, or approach me in any sense. I stopped being mean to people, I stopped being nice. I just…stopped. It was as if the driving force behind all of my actions had been stripped away from me.

When I went to NYU, I emerged from my shell a bit, made friends, and, in my junior year, met a pretty English girl that I'd started to seriously date. I distinctly remember constantly pushing myself to love her, to feel all of the emotions towards her I was supposed to feel, and eventually, they formed. Now, a year and a half later, we were still together. It was _nice._ It was very, very nice, and, for the most part, nonstressful. We almost never fought about anything. When one of us got a bit ticked off at the other, we would walk away, come back, and be okay again. It worked, as well as things like that could work. Being with Hannah was easy.

I was buried so deeply in my thoughts that I barely noticed it as I rounded a corner and slammed into someone.

"Sorry!" I cried, as she fell to the ground. I bent down to pick her up. "I'm so sorry. I was a bit preoccupied."

"It's okay," the girl reassured me, laughing. She looked up, and I felt a shock run through me as I looked into familiar brown eyes.

"Ginny?" I said incredulously.

"Pansy!" she shrieked, and engulfed me in a hug, bright red hair smacking me in the face. "Oh my god, it's been so long!"

"I know!" I exclaimed. "What, three, four years?"

"About that," she grinned. "What the hell are you doing here, girl?"

"I'm getting my Master's in Biology at Oxford," I explained.

"No shit! I'm an exchange student from NYU. I'm studying architectural design."

"Damn." My eyebrows shot up. To be honest, I remembered little about Ginny except that she was a serious hanger-on at our high school. I would have more expected to find her on a pole the next time I saw her, rather than in England. "That sounds really interesting."

"Oh, I love it," Ginny enthused. "It's on of the main reasons I wanted to come to Europe. I wanted to examine all the classical forms of architecture I could." "Brilliant," I said, and almost winced. Damned English people.

"Well, look, I've got to go meet my girlfriend. Maybe we could all have tea later?" she offered.

"Sounds lovely," I said, offering her a halfhearted smile. If I never saw tea again it would be too soon. "When?"

"Say, tomorrow, round three?"

"Perfect. Can my girlfriend come?"

"Course. The more the merrier! See you later, Pansy!"

"Later," I replied, and watched her hurry down the path. Huh. Seemed everyone turned out gay.

**Hermione's POV**

I smiled as warm arms encircled my waist. "And how are you, pretty girl?" I asked, leaning back into her touch.

"Better now," Ginny murmured into my ear. "What say we go for a quick snog in the ladies?"

"But my tea will get cold!" I protested playfully.

"You and your tea!" Ginny teased, letting go of me and sitting in the chair next to me in the bakery.

"Why the hell do you think I came to England, anyway? The accents are a huge turn on, and I love tea." I took a sip of my tea to illustrate and closed my eyes in bliss. "I also can't stand sunlight or heat. Five years in Texas nearly killed me."

"I knew you were secretly a vampire," Ginny sighed. "Guess this means we won't be visiting Hawaii anytime soon."

"Have I mentioned that I love the water?" I grinned mischievously. "The better for tossing pretty girls into."

"Careful, Hermione. If you're a bad girl I might have to bend you over my knee." Ginny's eyes sparkled with mirth. I quirked an eyebrow.

"Is that a promise?"

"If you're lucky," she replied, running a hand up my skirt. She squeezed the insides of my thighs roughly, and I struggled not to rut against her hand. I might not self-harm anymore, but I still loved pain and sex combined. As far as I was concerned, sex just wasn't sex without nails dragging down my skin and teeth biting into me. I flushed as I remembered the way her hand had clenched in my hair last night, yanking my head back as she slapped me full across the face. My reaction (whimpering and orgasming violently) was more than a little embarrassing, but then, that was fun too.

"Hey, I ran into an old high school friend last night. We're going to have tea with her and her girlfriend tomorrow at three."

"Sounds lovely," I whispered in a strangled tone. She now had three fingers in me, pumping slowly. I glanced around in terror at the other patrons, and saw that there were a couple of older men looking our way in interest. I looked back at Ginny pleadingly.

"Please, someone might see," I said desperately.

"And you'll let them," she said with raised eyebrows. "Let them watch as I make you come all over my hand, my sweet slut."

I shuddered violently, and inched closer to the table.

"Spread your legs for me, that's a girl," she cooed as I reluctantly spread my legs further for her, humiliation coloring my face and coming out as more dampness between my legs. "And don't you dare come until I give you permission."

"Yes, ma'am," I whimpered, now fucking myself shamelessly on her fingers.

"10. 9. 8. 7…" she paused, mouth curling sadistically, and I found myself, if possible, even more turned on. "6. 5. 4."

I could feel my climax building, and knew I wouldn't be able to last much longer.

"3. 2." She stopped, and studied my flushed face. "What do you say?"

"Please," I immediately started begging her. "Please let me come."

"1. Come for me." I let out a small sob as my orgasm shook through my entire body. I lay my head on the table as I trembled through the aftershocks.

"Thank you, ma'am," I mumbled.

"That's my good girl," she murmured affectionately, pulling her fingers out of my cunt and pushing them into my mouth. I sucked my juices off of her fingers obediently, relishing the boneless feeling sweeping through me.

I loved England.

**A/N:** Wow, that got way smuttier than I intended for it to. Sorry if any of my kinks squicked you out. I'm kinky, so it's almost impossible for me to write smut that doesn't have kink in it, otherwise, it just seems boring to me. Anyway, you know the drill. Review. Next chapter the fated meeting! Adios!

-CatJetRat


	4. The OhSo Fated Meeting

**A/N:** Is it peculiar that I've been working on this particular story line for over 4 years? I reread the stories, and the writing style from one chapter to the next changed as I changed. Perhaps that makes it hard to read. I'm not altogether certain. I just know that somehow I always manage to come back to this story, in the same way Hermione and Pansy always come back to each other. Some reviewers have wondered if they're going to get back together in the end. To be perfectly honest, I'm not certain. It depends upon how I feel at the end. So there's no certainty here. If you're looking for a story in which it's certain that the initial pairing end up together, this may or may not be for you. But if you, like me, want to stick around and see what happens, I'll welcome your company. As I've grown, my need for approval has diminished, so while reviews are nice, I'll no longer hold chapters for hostage for reviews. I can only hope this chapter is enjoyable. Peace.

-CatJetRat

**Chapter 4**

**The Oh-So Fated Meeting**

**Pansy**

"You know, it would have been nice if you'd bothered to ask my opinion about whether or not we go to tea today with some friend of yours from high school," Hannah said crossly. "I might have had plans."

"Did you?" I asked, lacing up my shoes.

"I—well—that's not the point!" Hannah sputtered.

"Look, if you don't want to come, that's fine," I said, standing up. "I'll just go visit with my really hot, lesbian friend and her presumably equally attractive girlfriend by myself."

Hannah glowered. "You're evil."

I smirked. "I know."

"Fine, fine, just let me put on my shirt."

"That's not necessary."

She rolled her eyes and pulled on a pink blouse. "Let's go, nympho."

**Hermione**

I yawned into my cup of tea, and drained it. Ginny eyed me in amusement. "Maybe you should lay off the caffeine. It's totally messing up your sleep schedule."

"Filthy lies," I said, refilling my cup from the blue teapot.

"You woke up at two today. We barely made it here."

I shrugged, settling comfortably into the soft armchairs the cute tea place provided. Around us, people laughed and worked on their computers and studied. It was all very cozy, as were most things in England. "Well, seeing as how they're not here yet, I'd say my timing was perfect."

Ginny laughed. "You and your logic," she said affectionately. "Look, there they are!"

I looked up and saw two blonde women stumble in through the doors, giggling at each other. I smiled to see their love. Then the woman with the slightly darker blonde hair tossed it out of her face, and looked at us. Her eyes met mine. My smile froze.

_Oh, shit._

**Pansy**

Hannah and I bickered playfully on the way to the tea place. By the time we went through the doors, we were snickering like schoolgirls. I tossed my hair out of my face, and looked for Ginny's table. I spotted her red hair, and my gaze slid to the woman sitting beside her with slightly bushy brown hair. She was smiling. I froze in place, just as she did.

"Hermione," I breathed. Hannah looked at me curiously, then turned to look at the table. Her body stiffened next to mine, her hand slipping out of mine. For a moment, we all just stood there, staring at each other.

"Pansy!" Ginny's voice shattered through my reverie. I blinked and looked at her. She seemed completely oblivious to what was happening. "We're over here!"

Slowly, hardly daring to believe what was happening, I moved towards the table. Hannah followed me after a brief pause. We both sat in chairs across from them.

"Pansy, this is Hermione Lopez," Ginny said, still blissfully unaware. "I'm Ginny Weasley," she added, holding out her hand to Hannah, who took it awkwardly. "Hannah Abbot."

Hermione and I sat staring at each other, her mouth open slightly. She looked good. Really good. Far better than when she'd left me five years ago. I could see the faint scars on her arms, but that was all they were. Scars. No fresh marks. She seemed hale and healthy. When this information made its way to my shell shocked brain, I could feel an emotion curling itself in my stomach, filling my entire body with heat. I was angry. I was past angry. I was furious beyond all reason.

"Hermione 'Lopez', is it?" I said coldly. "What, Granger, did you think by leaving your name behind, you could also leave the past behind you? Hakuna Matata, as it were?"

She shut her mouth and turned her chin up firmly. "You'd know all about leaving the past behind you, wouldn't you?" she replied, voice equally icy. "Share a few moments with the poor abused girl and toss all that aside the second your reputation gets challenged?"

"You started it," I retorted, feeling a blush spread down my neck as I realized how childish that sounded.

"Right, of course, because I was thinking clearly and not at all in need of compassion and understanding."

"And of course as a completely reasonable seventeen year old girl, I was in the place to give it!" I glared at her for a moment, breathing harshly. "So you just thought you'd abandon everyone, did you? Just so you know, I was the one of the only witnesses they had in the case against your parents and the church. The other witnesses were too scared to talk. They might go free completely and be able to continue raping children, thanks to you."

Hermione's face went white. "How the hell is that my fault? I didn't even know there was a court case."

"Because you made it impossible to find you!" I snarled, fingers gripping the tablecloth tightly. "You didn't have a cell phone, you didn't tell anyone where you were going, you sold Harry's car for a new one…we did everything we could to find you, but you were gone, despite everything I did to help you."

"Sorry, but your pussy wasn't some magic balm for my soul to make me stay in a town that held nothing but misery for me." Hermione sneered

Before I knew what was happening, I stood up and slapped her as hard as I could. The entire teashop fell deadly quiet. She tossed her hair back and glared at me.

"Fuck you, you ungrateful cunt." I hissed, angrier than I had ever been in my life. I had never used that word before, but now it felt appropriate. "I _helped _you. I was there for you. And then you just _left_. For all I knew, you were dead. You could have at least called."

She stood up as well. "You have no idea what I was going through at the time. I'm sorry I hurt your god damn feelings."

"Don't you _dare_ presume to know how I feel!" I said, my voice getting louder and louder. "We had two days together. You don't know me at all."

"I know that you're pissed as hell," Hermione crossed her arms and smirked. "And I know that you're holding my blood in your pocket still."

My face flushed in mortification as I grabbed at the heart shaped necklace, the outline of which was clearly visible through my pants pocket. How she had noticed and Hannah never had was beyond me. I shot a quick glance at her. Her face was stony. I felt guilt curl my insides. She got to her feet.

"Clearly you two have some issues to work out," she said flatly. She looked at me. "Don't bother calling until you're ready to burn that necklace with me." She swept out of the teashop. I stared after her, torn.

**Hermione**

Despite my bravado, my blood was pounding in my ears. Everything Pansy said to me was true. And I hated it. So, much like Pansy had when we were children, I employed the defense mechanism of cruelty.

It appeared to have worked. My face stung from her slap almost with triumph. Clearly she cared just as much as I did, but damned if I was going to let her see it. I wasn't a weak little girl anymore, and I wasn't going to let her use my feelings against me like last time.

"Are you going to chase after your hurt little girlfriend?" I asked condescendingly.

She turned back to me, eyes blazing. I recoiled slightly, then straightened, hoping she hadn't noticed. She had.

"Oh, now I scare you?" she sneered. "After all that?"

"Hardly," I snapped. "Come on, Ginny, let's go."

Ginny had been completely silent through the entire exchange. When I turned to her, her eyes were filled with betrayal. "Hermione Granger?" she said in disbelief. "Why on earth didn't you tell me?"

My heart softened. "I thought it didn't matter anymore. I didn't want your opinion of me colored."

"So it's perfectly fine for you to know who I am, but me knowing who you really are is completely unacceptable?" Ginny grabbed her jacket, standing up. "You know what, Hermione? I'm going to follow Hannah's approach. Call me when this drama fest is over and maybe we'll try to move past you lying to me."

"I never lied!" I called as she hurried away. "Shit."

I looked back to Pansy, who was standing there looking as if she'd rather be in a mud pit. She turned her face to meet mine, and for a minute, we just looked at each other some more, neither animosity nor forgiveness left in either of us.

"Um… I'm sorry, but you'll have to leave." A tiny brunette in an apron had walked up to us, looking a little scared.

"Fine," we said simultaneously, and we took another second to glare at the other for speaking.

"Thanks," she said in relief.

We left the teashop, and stood side by side for a minute, neither of us knowing what to say. As both of our girlfriends had already done the melodramatic exit, for some reason it felt strange to do it with each other.

"Right. Er. This was fun," I mumbled.

She let out a harsh laugh. I resisted as much as I could, but it bubbled up and hysterical laughter spilled out of me as well. We both stood there laughing until we were bent over and tears poured down our cheeks, though if I were asked, I wouldn't be able to say what kind of tears they were.

"You know," she said as she tried to get her laughter under control, "I really fucking hate you."

"Feeling's mutual," I snickered. We both flopped down in the middle of the sidewalk, eyeing each other as our laughter faded.

"You know, maybe we should go back to my place and try to have this conversation without the screaming," Pansy said idly.

I laughed again. "Fair enough."

We got up, and she led me to her car. With an odd feeling of déjà vu, I got in as she held the door open for me. She went to her side, got in, and shut the door. We sat there for a moment.

"Here we are again," she said.

"Yes. Here we are." I looked back at her, just as she turned to me. The air between us crackled.

**Pansy**

Why on earth I had suggested we go back to my place was beyond me. But as we sat in the car, staring at each other, I knew I had put myself in the worst possible position. The air was charged. I could see the hand mark on her face where I had slapped her, and for some reason, that made my body feel pooled with heat, different from the anger I had felt before. Her lips were bright pink, her cheeks flushed. I reached out and gripped her chin. She stayed completely still. I brought up my other hand and smacked her across the face for the second time. Her head jerked down, and she took deep breaths, doing nothing to retaliate. I slid my hand from her chin to her hair, and pulled it so her face was facing mine.

"God," I breathed. "Why did you have to be such a stupid bitch? We could have gotten through it together."

Her eyes glittered with tears. "No, we couldn't have. I was too broken. You were too young. I needed my mother."

I released her. "You're right," I said, swallowing. "Of course you're right." I turned away from her and started the car. She stayed still and silent as we drove to my apartment. We pulled into my parking space. I got out of the car, went around, and opened her door, pulling her out by the arm. My fingers were wrapped around her arm in a bruising grip. I unlocked my door and pushed her in ahead of me. She kept her face down, letting her hair cover it, and leaned against the far wall. I moved towards her swiftly, grabbing her by the neck and forcing her to look up at me. I pressed her body against the wall with mine, effectively trapping her. I wanted to punish her, make her pay for the pain she had caused me. She stared up at me as if she _wanted_ me to punish her. I squeezed her neck for a moment, then stepped away.

"Take off your clothes." My voice was not my own, surely. That voice must belong to someone else. She complied with shaking limbs. After she had slid her white panties down her legs, I grabbed her hair and pushed her to the floor. "Get on all fours," I snarled. She obeyed, tears started to form in her eyes. "Stay." I went into the bedroom, took off my shoes, socks, and underwear, before opening my drawer and pulling out my favorite strap on. It was one of my largest, black and nine inches long with a four inch girth. I put it on under my dress, refusing to contemplate what I was about to do. I grabbed a bottle of lubricant, and spread a little over it. I went back into the living room. She was still on all fours on my floor.

"Nice to see you stayed around this time," I remarked bitterly. She closed her eyes.

I positioned myself behind her, and, without any kind of preparation whatsoever, began to push it into her asshole. She cried out and tried to pull away, but I grabbed her arms and held her up, continuing to push into her mercilessly. "Pansy, don't," she whimpered.

"Please," I scoffed into her hair. "As if you really want that. Fine, tell me to stop, and I will."

She stayed silent.

"That's what I thought." I pushed the rest of my length into her. She started crying uncontrollably. I pulled out a little bit, and shoved back in. She whimpered.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I don't care," I replied, and started fucking her in earnest. She continued weeping, and as I went on, I could feel tears falling down my face as well. The slapping of her ass against my clit, and the sound of her sobs were intoxicating. I slid in and out of her as fast as I could, relishing the feel of her shaking body against mine. This was farther than we'd ever gone when we were children, exchanging tentative kisses in a car as we discovered each other and our love for each other. Then again, this was different. There were no kisses, no love. Simply her body, and mine. Me, inflicting wounds, emotional and physical, that I hoped would last forever, and her, accepting it, and longing for more, to be punished. It was so, so terrible, in the most wonderful way possible. We were together again, in whatever way we could be, and needed each other so desperately, but hated each other for so many reasons. I rested my head against her back as I continued to pound into her, all thoughts of Hannah and fidelity long gone, as I realized this was all I had wanted for so long.

**Hermione**

The tears pouring down my face were so wonderful, and welcome. I could feel her breasts pressing into my back as she forced her way into my body. I couldn't have said whether I consented to it or not, only that it was happening, and whether I enjoyed it or not was up for debate. I only knew that I needed it, as surely as she did. I needed her violently invading my ass, stretching the skin as tight as it would go, perhaps breaking it. I needed her as much as she needed me.

She wrapped the arm that wasn't holding mine around my front, and slammed into me again and again. A moment later, I could feel her entire body shudder with orgasm. She stayed there for a minute, breathing hard and holding me. But then the moment ended and she shoved me away. Her strap on pulled out of me as I went, blood and who knew what else covering it. She unhooked it and tossed it across the room, as if trying to get it as far away from her as she could. She sat down on her hardwood floor heavily, and leaned her back against her blue couch. I stared at her from my collapsed position on the floor. She looked at me, and I looked back. There was no guilt in her expression, as one might expect from someone who just cheated on her spouse and had anal sex with a dubiously consensual partner. No. There was simply pure relief on her face.

"You're alive," she whispered in wonder. "Jesus fucking Christ, you're really alive." Tears were streaking down her face, but whether she was aware of them or not was uncertain.

"I really am," I said softly, and crawled my way over to her. She reached out and gripped my hair again, shaking me slightly.

"God. You cunt. My god." She shook her head, and pulled my body between her legs, laying my face between her breasts.

We lay there, on her floor, both of us crying into each other, girlfriends forgotten, as if no time had passed at all.

We were together again.

**A/N:** That was longer than I intended. Ah, well. These things happen. I'm sorry if I freaked any of you out. I debated putting in warnings, but ultimately decided that they would give too much away. I dearly hope this won't get removed. That would sort of suck. Let me know what you think, yeah? Adios.

-CatJetRat


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